Broken but Healing
by lunar-kunoichi
Summary: Sometimes running away is not an act of cowardice. For Hinata, it is the only way to find the power to save the Hyuuga from its own restrictions. Upon returning, has she found the strength to reach her goal? ABANDONED. SEE PROFILE.
1. Prologue: Following the Heart

"Broken But Healing"

By _lunar-kunoichi_

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'_I hate fighting.'_

It was such a basic thought, and yet completely out of place for someone like her.

Hyuuga Hinata dodged a whizzing kunai, thrown by someone ignorant of her abilities. Her breath bated as she whipped around and sealed all his tenketsu on his right arm, and while he was still gasping, his left. Grimly, she swept him off his feet and dragged him to a tree with nothing but a loop of wire.

Her eyes widened when she turned back to the fight, where her Chuunin team had finished the mission but was ambushed upon return. There weren't that many shinobi, but one was closing down on Kiba. His back was turned, and Hinata knew he couldn't possibly sense his enemy when he was battling furiously against another.

Almost before she knew what was happening, she'd cut a visible swatch through the clones someone called up, and made her way across to her team mate amidst a cloud of smoke. It was nothing to her eyes, and she peered past without worry to strike Kiba's enemy before he managed to introduce the dog boy to the bite of his sword. There was a look of surprise in Kiba's eyes, but she ignored it in favour of following the nin's retreat.

By the time she'd moved even one step he'd recovered all too quickly, and his strike about to severe her neck and separate her head from the rest of her body—

—something warm impacted with her side, sending her flying far enough to avoid the lethal blow. Without hesitation she moved swiftly behind the ninja and chopped a specific cluster of nerves, surrendering him to sleep for the moment.

"Hinata." Kiba's voice was disapproving as he appeared within the cloud of rapidly-disappearing bunshin; there were only three or four left by now, whereas, just a few moments before, the fake bodies filled the clearing. "You shouldn't put yourself in danger."

"But, Kiba-kun." Hinata began, but was forced to stop as she defended against one of the real ninja, before he was looped back by Akamaru.

His tone was unusually sharp, "I don't care if you had gathered chakra to defend yourself." Her eyes widened when she realised he'd guessed exactly what he was going to say. Perhaps noticing her expression, he softened his words, "Look, you should really be more careful. You can help heal us if either Shino and I get hurt, but it won't happen vice-versa. You're invaluable to our team. Don't take risks that you can't handle."

She winced as his words became an unmeaning insult, but the boy did not notice. He threw himself into the fray, and soon the remaining three shinobi, out of the team of five who'd attacked them, were tied up, one spitting vulgar phrases that made Hinata blush.

But she was more focused on her team mates. The three Chuunin, comprised of the bug-user Aburame Shino, dog-type-jutsu-user Inuzuka Kiba, and herself, were still working together as a squad since they specialised in the same area. The fact that they'd been on the same Genin squad was just an added bonus. They would be on the same for some time more: neither Kiba nor Shino were harmed seriously.

"No injuries?" said Kiba. "I sort of hoped to have a cute nurse looking after me, you know. . ."

A blush decorated her face. "Um . . . I think so, Kiba-kun. No, neither of you are injured, of course."

She couldn't help but think it was a miracle that they were still alive if they were forced to cover her all the time, and save her from rampaging ninja. Hinata shuddered as she glanced at the blood dripping off one of the captured, and unconscious, shinobi's legs. If her team mates hadn't been there, she would be a pool of nothing but the crimson liquid . . . conveniently forgetting that she'd been ready to defend herself.

Kiba said, "We got two ninja dead this time, and three left to tell the tale. It's a new record for us." He smiled tiredly, "I suppose, since no one's really injured or unwell, we can get back to Konoha and say that we took down a five-man squad. And that two of them were killed. Yeah. A new record."

Shino stayed silent. He probably didn't feel like talking, just as he always seemed.

Meanwhile, Hinata couldn't help but feel sad that their triumphs were marked by the number of people dead, or the number of people captured. Her family was right. If she displayed these types of thoughts, they would turn to mercy. And mercy was weak.

She needed to be protected. She was weak.

She stayed silent all along their route back but no one noticed—Hyuuga Hinata was always quiet.

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1. Following the Heart

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Something ripples before her, silvery surface blurry to her eyes. Strange. She has more-than-normal eyesight. To the normal person, of course; her family thinks -_(knows_)- her eyes are weak. Perhaps it is because this place is a study in contrasts, light and dark at the same place, at the same time, with no explanation why.

It is a dream. This type of place cannot exist in reality.

She has never felt like this in a dream before. Her dreams have always been blurry and surreal, where up and down and down up, and clouds of nothing chase themselves until they fade into the distance. Is it an illusion? How can a dream be so steady, if still kind of pale and incoherent to every glare she throws, trying to get passed the misty veil over her eyes? But it is not mist; not water either; certainly not ice. . .

Is it a Genjutsu?

Her hands move -(_fumble_)- into a ram seal, and she shouts in the clearest voice she can manage through the beating of her heart, "Kai!"

But nothing changes. The stillness is as steady and eerie as ever. The air stays the same not-grey matter, a mixture of black and white that does not make grey.

Then the rippling catches her eye once more. She is looking into a smooth mirror now, and she knows, without touching it, that the surface is as cold as ice despite the way it acted before. The accessory is expensive and -_(strangely)-_ elegantly framed with gold. It towers before her like a wave on the verge of striking and bringing impending doom to her waiting eyes and twitching fingers. It really says something about her that she thinks immediately of horror when her face is cast.

Her reflection is somehow different, but her mind is so fuzzy it is difficult to tell through the mist that covers her eyes _-(just like in training, isn't it?)-_ if the person -_(creature)-_ before her is really she. The shadow is roughly her height with the same dark hair that brushes her shoulders and pearl orbs that stareout almost fearfully, but she cannot tell if the subtle movements are her own.

The reflection is a study in contrasts, and that is strangely unlike her. A body split into two different -_(opposite)_- tones, and even as she thinks that they are merely dissimilar and not black-and-white strange, she realises that the hues are discoloured grey, the differences are startling in the hazy atmosphere. One side is a cloud, a pale, greyish white, and her clothes cut in a style that she recognises as a traditional -_(old)- _kimono, with an underlying black that is _there_. The other is a chiselled face of blank chalk, with the same blurred shade for clothing, but the garments are made for fighting. Even so an opal gleams smugly from a silver sleeve, and something green mars her forehead.

She thinks she knows too well what it is. Gingerly, carefully, she reaches for the reflection, hesitating as it draws closer to the phantom -_(too solid)- _reflection provided by the slippery surface.

But she cannot bring herself to touch it until doubt arises from her mind, urging her to find if the reflection is really her own. With a suddenly streak of half-courage, half-fear, her fingers collides with the coolness of silvered glass. . .

To slip through it?

The silver liquid-mist pulls and tugs at her hand until she obliges and plunges her limbs through the -_(icy)-_ cool screen, and suddenly, the hazy veil over her gaze lifts until she can see her surroundings with clear, trembling eyes. But something pulls her glance back to her front, where the mirror is pulsing. She tries to pull back, but the grip is cold and rigid and unmoving, and she cannot move away!

Her eyes are riveted in fear now at the symbol slowly appearing awash from the mirror. Her surroundings have faded into darkness -_(an icy void where nothing exists and nothing can exist)-_ and now there is nothing but the dull mirror where her reflection is blurred to show shadowy figures in the background from the light that is gradually rising from her.

Her pale hand glows with an eerie and ethereal light, and suddenly the -_(non-existent)- _shadows around her have fallen silent to watch with awe as the pure white streams off her figure. Now the form before her unveils to show someone faceless yet familiar all the same. She knows him -_(her?)-_ from the sweep of smooth, raven hair and the pearl eyes that glare until she wishes to cringe and become something invisible to all-seeing eyes.

There must be light somewhere in the darkness which will guide her away from this spectre of all she fears and yet reveres.

(_You must be the light which will guide_)

She looks around in shock before her gaze is drawn back. The glass is completely reflective now, and the person depicted _is_ her, but the divide between left and white is gone, as is that horrible green mark. But what does it mean?

_(One faces the future with one's past)_

Does it mean that she is to be kidnapped? No, somehow she knows it isn't. She has to leave. But she needs to leave by none but her own hand in the matter. But she still cannot see why it is so. She, Hyuuga Hinata, is nothing but a mediocre Chuunin with nothing to her name but the Hyuuga pride and a weak Byakugan. What has she to offer? Again, the voice that is not there answers..

_(Two halves)_

And then the darkness rises up and gags her and drags her down.

----

It might have taken more than a small amount of time for her to start heeding her dream, but for an incident that occurs that very afternoon.

Every day after her training, Hinata sits quiet and contemplative upon an outdoor porch overlooking the training yard where circles of dust rise at every trod of graceful figures -_(everyone else is so poised without clumsy feet)- _who spar under a hot sun and sterile heat. When the dust settles after a long day she leaves, if only because the ghosts of shadows which come out are the ones which haunt her as much as the verbal spars in which she trembles a coward's defeat.

It is within the boundaries of the tall, stone walls of the fort -_(prison)-_ when she notices that she is not alone. Someone as quiet as she but with a presence that is undeniably solid and calm to the extend of being an icy statue. The Hyuuga heiress, only hanging on by a thread to her claim, turns to look at her sister, five years her junior.

"Hanabi." She says, trying to keep her voice steady.

The other girl stays silent for a long moment. She stares at Hinata with all-encompassing eyes that drive her towards the ground even while the older girl tries desperately to avoid the soft iron in her gaze, almost of rebuke, and very much of apathy.

"Onee-san." She says finally. She has already dropped the 'sama' because no one thinks Hinata worthy of inheriting the title. "What brings you here?" her lips turn up in an almost cruel smirk. "You should be training your Byakugan, not dreaming. There is no room for dreamers."

There is another long pause, this time on Hinata's side as the older girl fumbles with her fingers before her in a sort of shield that she is too conscious to put up and too afraid to lower. Her feet are on the edge of shuffling and drawing up more of the dust until she must stay until nightfall to watch as the specks glimmer like gold against a blue sky. "I . . . I try to find something I can accelerate at to be of value on my team because there are other ways and other forms of battling."

"There are people who think the Hyuuga are perfect warriors." Hanabi points out, the look in her light eyes unreadable. It is as blank as what Hinata saw in her dream the night before, and her face is not dissimilar to the chiselled, neutral features the half-person -_(because half is all she can say the creature is)- _sports.

Hinata tries to think of something to say, but the words she blurts out are not from her mind. "The Hyuuga clan has not changed for so long it has no r-room but for the people who fit the meld. Perhaps the meld is a little too r-rusted with time to see what should be done. It is a shame that many of the former casts have been thrown away to places from where . . . they can only retrieve the broken pieces with a f-fight."

The younger girl stares some more, her pale eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What makes you think that anyone wishes to claim it?" she tilts her head. "Why do you stay somewhere which clearly does not require your support. Better yet, why do you stay if you do not think our system is right?"

And suddenly, Hinata realises exactly what the dream was about. _Is_ about, because in dreaming the subconscious tells what the -_(cowardly)-_ owner cannot say in reality. In dreaming, the hidden is revealed and connections made from previously gibberish matters that plague one's mind. In dreaming the deeper truth is revealed if one wishes to look past the veil of illusions and desires that come with a mind and freedom of speech and thought.

"Because someone has to do so."

She ignores Hanabi's surprised eyes when she leaves her under the afternoon sun.

----

When she approaches her father's room at dusk the guard merely glances at her for a moment before admitting her through the doors. Underneath the cool exterior Hinata is sure she can sense anticipation twinge in his pale eyes as he frowns slightly, his expression carefully neutral as if he is being judged for his act.

The room is purposely -_(deathly)- _silent as she enters. Two blank gazes stare her down and Hinata needs to fight to keep from shifting in her full shinobi gear that is completely packed. Her stay in the Hyuuga manor will be concluded for some time but for one inevitable affair which arises whenever one wishes to pack and make her own life, while one is the heiress. She needs to face this last obstacle, something of a test, she assumes.

"Hinata." Hyuuga Hiashi acknowledges calmly, sitting regally at his chair. Beside him, Hanabi is equally placid, an ideal Hyuuga heiress, her face calmly composed and quietly majestic.

For a moment Hinata wishes to back down, as she has always done in the past due to timid tendencies lingering from years and years of being melded -_(unsuccessfully, because no successful Hyuuga is shy)-_ into the strict regulations and ideals any Hyuuga, much less the supposed heiress, must embrace. But her -_(ironic)- _kindness is what steels her spine, and her ambition and hopes surface to battle against her fear.

She reminds herself what rides on her decisions, the choices which are hers. She forces her mouth to move. "I m-must speak to you in private, O-otou-sama." For she can never bring herself to speak to his stiff, stoic man who has her love despite that, in genial and informal terms.

Hiashi raises a thick eyebrow that gives him -_(not)- _a concerned air to counter his stark authority.

He is waiting for her to continue talking, completely disregarding what she wishes -_(needs)-_ him to be. He is everything but a good father; a creator who spends his time turning his children into clones. It is this traitorous thought that burns her cheeks into a blush and which gives her the will to do the surprising act she decides to do in front of a pair of orbs that stare thoughtfully at her red face.

Carefully controlling her movements, she adds a burst of speed to re-appear behind Hanabi for but a split-second before pressing a cluster of nerves in the same fashion she took care of a ninja outside Konoha on her previous mission. Within moments Hanabi is slumped in her arms, too slow to block Hinata's moves despite being a genius, while Hiashi watches with the same all-encompassing eyes that only Hinata does not possess.

Time seems to stop. She fears retribution for her act, as her sister falls in an arc—_should she have done so?_

"Hinata." He says again when she has carefully placed her sister onto a futon, her eyes darting fearfully at him before backing down, "What do you need to talk about?"

When she tells him of leaving and how much she needs it, and how much she wishes to do so, he stares at her with only a little surprise in the set of his jaw and none in his sad eyes. There is no lecture, and there is no chide. He asks simply, "Why should I let you leave?"

Her answer is not quite as simple. "Because I must do what I have to in order to fulfil my . . . duties. There are shadows lurking away from home, and whether those shadows hide deep chasms or a wealth of treasure I will face them at some time. Don't you agree, Otou-sama?"

He does not reply, and Hinata does not think to ask why his face was happy at her first sentence and yet is now set in surprise and apathy once more come the second part of her answer. Deeper, Hinata can see for the first time the weariness that a blank gaze hides all too well, the tears which are masked with indifference required from the Hyuuga Head.

She does not ask, and so she does not hear that the treasures seem much less luminous when covered with experience and blood.

----

White eyes sweep the room with -(_due)-_ worry. The Hokage is sitting upright, her almond-shaped eyes looking thoughtfully at Hinata, her face perfectly neutral. It is the type of face Hinata has been confronted with all too many times, and her shishou is no different. Tsunade-sama is her teacher, and has been for years, tutoring her in the arts of medicine although she had to sneak out and hide in the shadows to attend every lesson.

However, to Hinata's surprise, a half-finished pile of paperwork lies in front of the Godaime, who is still clutching a pen in her firm grip. As if noticing her stare, Tsunade glances down at the writing covering half of the top sheet. "Don't get used to it. I should shove it off to Shizune, but she's got enough as it is. Besides, Sakura's doing the next bunch when she gets in here. And I, um, lost a bet, so while I have to do this I know nothing's going to go wrong for a while."

The Hyuuga nods, but does not answer for a long moment.

"What is it?" Tsunade asks, placing down her pen and threading her fingers together in front of her. She leans forward in anticipation, as if she can sense what Hinata is to say will change the -_(loose)-_ fabric of one of her student's lives. "I'm sure I didn't arrange a lesson tonight, and you did not ask for one either. Are you here for a mission? You don't have to, since you've just returned from an A-Rank . . . which you shouldn't have done as a Chuunin apart from your father pressing down for more difficult missions."

There is tension in the air that Hinata does not like, but she cannot bring herself to talk ill of her father. She tries to buy time, smoothing down her shinobi gear as her mind whirls, straying to heights as she seeks to conjure words that are simply not there in the crevasses of her frozen mind. Her father has scolded her many times for this trait, when she cannot pass the _-(iron-cast)- _gates born of tempered shyness. "Um. . ."

Tsunade's eyes widen slightly in thought. "It _isn't _your father, is it? _Are_ you here to request a mission?"

"Um. . . s-sort of, Tsunade-sama." Because she has not studied long enough to approach more familiar terms. She still addresses her Hokage in the way a servant addresses her mistress if only as she is a servant _-(slave)- _to the leader of the village, a tool, and nothing more. But tools do not form _-(unruly)- _opinions, nor do they ask for leave, and Hinata is prepared to do so.

"Well?" Now the amber eyes narrow, her gaze intense and completely intent on her.

She bites back a stutter and a mutter, gathers all the courage and -_(too-heavy)- _weight of duty she possesses as inspiration. She says reverently, "Godaime-sama, I wish to. . . um . . . leave Konoha for a certain period of time for travel. Like a . . ." she searches for words once more in the dusty recollections she possesses of history, from the tedious lectures in the academy which always seemed to take place on a hot, sunny day, with the sun a blazing ball in the sky, ". . . A _training mission._"

"And why would you want that?" Tsunade asks, and Hinata can tell with training through the years what the subtle motions of the Hokage's body parts depict as a _-(ageless)-_ picture in whole. Tsunade is everything she is not, -_(appropriately)-_ confident, strong and beautiful, carrying authority with every gesture that she makes, even while she covers up confusion as she is doing now. The Godaime is curious, and Hinata does not know if she should tell her.

Pale eyes avoid the sharp gaze of wooden brown as she turns to gaze at the baby pinks and bedtime lavenders gracing the sky. She chews her lower lip and decides to tell _-(part of)-_ the truth. "I need to get stronger," she says, still not meeting the older woman's eyes in a purposeful attempt to stay calmly poised as she is supposed to at all times, "And while I'm not really looking for power I think there are things I'll find when alone without my blanket. I've always been protected by—"

Tsunade interrupts sharply with biting words, "Do you believe you are able to survive out in the wild? You're only fourteen . . ."

Hinata finally summons enough courage to slide her eyes over to meet deep brown. "But I am a shinobi, and an adult, please Tsunade-sama. . ."

"Fine." It surprises Hinata that the Godaime needs only a little pushing to agree. The head medic gazes meaningfully into her eyes. "You will be given a string of lower B-Rank and C-Rank missions to complete. I expect you back within the allotted time of five years."

Hinata nods. As she is about to head out, the Hokage speaks once more.

"Don't let your journey be where your story leads you, but where you take your story."

----

The gates loom up in front of her, and even though there is a whole village of loved ones behind her, she cannot think of anything but leaving.

_It will be years till we meet again Konoha. I'll be changed, maybe just slightly, but changed. Who knows what else will be?_

----

To be continued . . .

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**A/N: R & R**

**I have decided to replace the chapters. Please tell me what you think. Any chapter with this sort of format means it has been replaced**


	2. Return of a Kunoichi

"Broken But Healing"

By _lunar-kunoichi_

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The girl started as something shot towards her.

With surprising swiftness her hands shot out and batted it away before realising that it was but a burnt ember. Fire nibbled away at the logs burning under the chimney; Hyuuga Hinata, eighteen and wide-eyed, looked away from the blaze to set her eyes on the woman sitting beside her on the mat.

"Are you sure?" she asked nervously, tugging at her sleeves. They were long and wide but simple, and yet too fancy for a normal fighter. But Hinata had never been very normal. "It hasn't been five years yet, and I am sure they can do without me."

Doe eyes stared back with startling intensity. The woman asked simply, "Why do you ask if you do not wish to heed my words?" and then, "I can only tell you what I know; this is not always very much. Some of the small but significant truths are hidden to me, but I have enough foresight to see there is nothing here for you any longer."

The Hyuuga did not answer. She looked away, although she could never shield her gaze from the other woman's glance, not even if she stared in another direction. Such were her pale eyes, encompassing in their own way, but certainly not the orbs of her father, or her cousin, or her sister. Her mouth turned up in a sad smile. "You are probably right. But there is you, and Yuki; you are not family, but I consider you as such, shishou."

It was true. While other roaming shinobi visited the mountains in isolation once every year, Hinata's feet always led her down the same path into a tiny village on the outskirts of the Land of Fire, where the land met the sky, where the women did housework and looked after their children. As much as Hinata knew she could never be one of them, her body ached to do something simple for once instead of fighting through life with a sword. Because it was what her father did, and her experiences were ones she would not wish onto any child.

Every time she came she would learn some more of the woman, the village healer who had some grasp over chakra and more knowledge of herbs and medicine than a normal person could hope to learn in a lifetime. Hinata knew the woman could not possibly be much older than thirty so it only startled her further the extent and power with which she gripped her lands despite being a woman in these parts. This village had no shinobi; life was such a huge contrast from that of Konoha Hinata had been thrown off balance the first time she visited.

"Well," said the woman thoughtfully, holding a slim hand out to the fire, "Suppose I come with you? No, I cannot, Hinata. The village needs me more than Konoha ever will with the great Tsunade-sama there. Yuki has not yet finished his education; moreover, I am not sure if he is meant to be a medicine man or something else. And when you return, they'll have _you_, so don't look at me that way. You can visit here as long as you do not bring others with you. It will bring nothing but havoc."

The Hyuuga sighed as she leaned back to glance up at the thatched roof. The simple structures of the sparsely populated lowlands where men left by the light of dawn_—_and returned while tempests raged and the moon shone a spectre in the sky—and no other time, were surprisingly comfortable in their own ways.

Finally, she murmured, "I will regret nothing but leaving my extended family."

"You have a family at home, don't you?" the healer pointed out calmly, turning to look at her student. The tiny bells hanging off her many braids tinkled with ethereal music while rain batted at the walls and the roof, the wet weather doing nothing to absorb their glow. "Would you abandon your task for four years just for two people you have found in the wild? Your friends and family await you. Because one faces the future with one's past."

Hinata jerked, remembering something like an itch in the back of her mind. She wondered if she would ever look as alive as the healer did; and yet she looked so old as well, as if she _had_ glimpsed bloody treasure too many times and tried to clean off the crimson liquid to no avail. Her eyes slid back towards the woman's dark ones. "That's right. But it's not only for my family now. For once I'm doing it for _me._"

The healer's laughter rang against the walls. "Of course. And yet I wager you'll be back soon enough, Hinata, trying to rest from the constant stress of being a kunoichi. Before one year is over. Because the cure for anything is salt water, and here you have tears and sweat aplenty while waves roll against the cliffs over yonder. I wonder why no one else lives closer to the sea while flecks of foam role up. Water is the life of the earth—"

"—which is why you named yourself after it. Mizu." The girl finished. "But some day I _will_ find out your real name."

Mizu stared at her in surprise. "You were never this curious before. But does it matter? My name is mine alone to choose from, and in a name comes new memories. I would rather not face my old ones, and so I change my name so no one else can bring it up. I have not strayed from my path of life, merely changed where it leads."

"Maybe not." Hinata said thoughtfully.

The storm crackled, but when the pitter-patter of rain was no longer audible, four years after she left Konoha, Hinata returned home.

----

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2. Return to Neverland

----

A fox slips out of her hands, and Hinata needs to fight not to gasp. Her pet has never behaved this way before, even around strangers which startle other animals. It is her firm belief that myths are always based on _-(some tiny grain of)- _fact at some point its creation, and kitsune have always been depicted as tricksters which stray on the boundaries of the impossible, crossing the line more times than she can count on her -_(stick-like)-_ fingers.

It has taken her too long to come home. She scopes the -_(only one-tailed, thank goodness)-_kittling back up into her arms, her grasp tight enough to keep it from straying once more, and sighs. It is too mischievous and yet she never thinks of letting it into the wild where tempests strike on command. Hinata does not even remember how exactly she found the impish animal apart from a backdrop of trees and a roaring surf pounding in her ears that makes her think Mizu might take it in if she returns at once. But, as always, she dismisses the idea with a firm shake of the head before looking out with wide eyes.

It has been too long since she last glimpsed the gates, and she is all too eager to enter and try and weave into the fabric of society that she left behind years ago.

"State your business." One of the _-(elite, of course)-_ Chuunin guards orders, command in every movement as to make sure all the visitors follow his commands. He works in a flashy way that Hinata does not approve of, but she knows it is more than useful in a public place; her life as a roaming wisp is nothing like his, and she knows this, so does not plant his curtness against him.

Still, she puffs on her fringe in annoyance. The fox is wriggling again, uncomfortable in her grasp, and she does not want it to take any longer than need be. Already, she has passed over all of her anger in a smooth, gentle reply that others expect. "I am a Konoha kunoichi, guard. Here is my hita-ate." She fishes it out of her pocket because it would be death to be seen with one in some of the places she has visited. "There is no need to escort me. I know this place well enough."

The guard peers at her with stern eyes, and nods. "Very well, Hyuuga."

She smiles at the way he recognises her eyes, if not her face, immediately, though this might be because she has been absent for so long. Her feet carry her towards the Hokage tower, where she sends in her scroll to assure a quick appointment. When she enters she makes sure to look calm and demure.

"Tsunade-sama." She says, even more unfamiliar with the Hokage now than before.

She sees the Godaime sweep over her face with a sharp eye, as if criticising silently like everyone did while she still resided within the Hyuuga Main House. Pearl eyes gaze expectantly until the blonde turns back, her face as neutral as always.

Tsunade says, "I suppose you have completed the missions. Your royalties you have been using, your commission the same since I told them to give you cash straight off. And now you have returned." Her gaze is contemplative, and Hinata decides to shift uncomfortably under the sharpness. "I hope you've found what you wanted, since you won't have another chance to do so. You're going straight to work in the hospital once I get done with you. As a Chuunin, of course."

"Of course, Godaime-sama." Hinata says, "It's what I wanted in the first place. I still do. To heal. And while the mission wasn't quite as successful as I wished to, it was informative enough."

"Good to hear it." The Godaime announces, a _-(faint)-_ smile upon her mouth. "Normally, I would get you to go and get reacquainted yourself, but if you're to start working soon, you might as well learn quickly."

"No." Hinata responds, knowing that Tsunade will understand easily enough, refraining from fidgeting like her fox must wish to, "thank you. I need to see for myself."

Tsunade shrugs. "You still need the basics. Basically, Hyuuga Neji is ANBU captain, your sister is _officially_ Chuunin, and your father is still the head. He must be, since no one else has bothered to send anyone after you. I'm not sure what he said, but he knows I claimed that you were on a special string of missions for me. The rest, what they hear, is up to you." She picks up a pen and scribbles something on a scroll. "This is my word. I expect you for a lesson at eight O'clock next week. You may leave."

"Thank you." The Hyuuga repeats, before bowing a leaving. A smile that mirrors Tsunade's is on her own mouth as the fox runs to catch up.

----

A girl dressed in pure white sits still under a tree, shadows splaying out and dotting her dark hair. She is thirteen and she is beautiful, but Hyuuga Hanabi cannot have what she wants the most; not yet. She cannot be heiress until she defeats her sister, and Hinata, watching from above, knows she will not let Hanabi take her place. The younger girl is an ANBU member already, but this is not surprising when she knows Hanabi is terribly, amazingly skilled. Hanabi is a prodigy, and much stronger than Neji had been at her age; or so the rumours fly.

The younger girl seems to shift a little. Her eyes are closed but after a moment it opens again, surveying the surroundings although it is difficult to tell. But Hinata has lived so long among those with such -all-_encompassing)-_ eyes that she can sense the way her younger sister roams across. She is long-haired and white-eyed, with a hint of pearl but no lavender. Her face is longer and sharper than Hinata's, but hold an ethereal allure that goes beyond the classical beauty she possesses. Hinata does not know if it is from her power or from what Hinata can sense deep below her.

She waits until she is sure Hanabi has seen her before slinking down, her fox, named Kitsune, just as silent. She knows it is strange to name a fox 'fox' but she has never minded, and the fox has never protested. She also knows Hanabi will not have known it is her, and is rewarded with a _-(quick)-_ flash of surprise from the younger girl. The kunai Hanabi is holding has slipped out of her hand and clatters to the ground.

"Hanabi." She acknowledges, not pretending she is unhurt when nothing but apathy is present in her sister. She loves Hanabi for all the girl is strange, and that her younger sister is so distant is a blow more powerful than a thousand kunai. Hanabi is all jade and diamond, and her eyes glisten like -_(icy cold)- _opals.

Hanabi replies tonelessly, apart from disgust so tiny Hinata is half-sure she has only imagined it, "Hinata . . . onee-san. Father wishes to see you. He has specifically done so for some time now."

Hinata does not move, "I need to speak to you."

"Talk." Says Hanabi immediately, raising an eyebrow. Now her beauty is somewhat cruel and elegant like all Hyuuga should be. Like Hinata should have been, without the roundness in her gaze. "And then leave. One does not seek advice in the arms of a competitor."

"Me?" asks Hinata just as quickly.

Hanabi looks at her, summing her up without a sign of emotion. "Maybe. Perhaps you are not worth it."

Hinata leaves immediately, hardly noticing the fox has long since disappeared, plotting a route which will take her out of sight from any other Hyuuga.

Even the best of plans fail, and along the way someone she needs a few moments to recognise registers on her senses. "Neji-oniisan." She says calmly, her eyes lighting up in the fashion it did when she addressed Hanabi for the first time in years. As much has her cousin has hurt her she still loves him in a close-bonding, family way.

She suspects it is the same for the girl of winds, though she cannot remember her name. Gusts, not breezes, slips through that girl's hair and pelt it full of sand although the strands are already that colour, her hands and eyes harsh from the elements. The girl has a demon as a brother, she knows, even though the demon is gone. Absentmindedly, she looks down. She has heard this from reliable sources, and her own personal experience with the girl is not to be discounted. The girl does not fight because she must, but because she loves it, but somehow underneath that violence is a caring soul who loves her family because they _are_.

Hinata does not think Neji sees her as such any longer. Things were improving before she left, after she became Chuunin after everyone else -_(fourteen, while everyone seemed so strong and changed after just the first season; it was the first Chuunin exams where more than five people passed, while she was left behind in the dust)-_ but she does not know if time has dulled its edge. Her eyes skitter off his face. He is almost feminine but within him, just as within every other male member of the Hyuuga, lies something that distinguishes him from her sister. His eyes are the same as Hanabi's, white and unmoving, as he watches her.

"Hinata-sama." He finally says coolly, no surprise showing on his features. If Hanabi is an arctic breeze, Hinata thinks, he is ice. But he surprises her with a tiny, almost invisible smile, before it is wiped off. "You have returned."

"Yes, from my mission." She says in return, holding her chin up the best she can. Hinata does not wish to be seen as arrogant, merely with a spark of confidence she was lacking. Even now the Hyuuga heiress cannot say for sure if she is as coolly confident as her cousin, with the presence of her sister, or the authority of her father. All she knows, after four years, is that she is capable enough and that she needs to _believe_.

Neji merely inclines his head, silently hinting that there might have been something more than a string of missions, but Hinata neither confirms or denies this. It hardly surprises her that it is Neji, not Hanabi, who has delved deeper. Hanabi was—is, even now, Hinata thinks sadly—her competitor and would not shame herself looking into her sister's life. Neji, on the other hand, has never wished to hold the position as head.

The heiress asks, a formal, yet soft, tone to her voice, "Have you been well, Neji-oniisan?"

"As well as can be expected." He responds cryptically. "You should meet Hiashi-sama now, Hinata-sama. Uncle does not like being kept waiting. Hinata-sama knows this."

"I do." Hinata says. "Farewell . . ." she pauses. "And congratulations, Neji-oniisan on your promotion."

He does not look surprised as he walks away, and Hinata knows that Neji has not changed that much since she has left, and because of this she is grateful. Another smile tugs at her mouth.

----

It sniffs the ground with vigour, trying to pick up the scent again. Kitsune, who is, not incidentally, a _kitsune_, glances around with bright, inquisitive eyes. He—for it is a male—scampered away from his mistress a few minutes ago when he first whiffed that familiar smell, something dark and over-bearing, and yet covered with brightness. Kitsune tries to stand up before remembering that it takes too much energy.

Some of its relatives have mastered the art of shape-shifting, but the stories have been passed down generation to generation, for the last shape-shifter was the great Kyuubi which disappeared many years ago, when Kitsune was still unborn.

He glances down once more and immediately spots footsteps on the ground some feet ahead. To many animals, to many humans, they would look nothing but indentations by something, but Kitsune is a trickster and he knows well the mark of power. The marks are hollowed by darkness and yet ringed by light. The fox is not very old but even he can feel the power.

By now the fox race have been reduced to wild animals, but Kitsune old enough to remember the awe some of his 'people' felt whenever the Nine-tail's name was mentioned. Still feel when it is mentioned, but by now the emotions are dulled by time.

Kitsune scampers across the ground, following the tracks once more. They were made by a hunter, for only one of those humans, cloaked in shadows, have this type of stealth. He knows that there are people like the sword-wielders, with great blades of metal attached to a hip, but as good as some are, the samurai are nothing to the people who have been trained to move in darkness.

Some who have walked in the shadows so long they have become one.

The energy source is getting closer. He urges his lithe body forwards, straining his legs as he tries to stay silent while moving at top speed. His nature, like all of his creatures, is curious and he will not let it go without following whatever it is to the bottom!

Soon the road lies dusty and forgotten. It is autumn now, but the sun still blazes and clings onto the land while it can. Green leaves are only slightly touched by various, magnificent shades of orange-yellow as of yet, but Kitsune does not pause to look up. It has a feeling that, even if he does, the being is thoroughly camouflaged within the trees.

And then, unexpectedly, something barks. Kitsune pauses, this time really glancing up and getting his bearings. The sound is, unfortunately, painfully familiar, yet he resists running away like many of his kind would. His inquisitive nature has trumped his caution.

But when a hound appears before him, Kitsune cannot grip his bravery, and shoots off.

"A fox!" the pug says, looking ahead. There is something almost deep in its voice, trained to speak like a human, unlike the cute, small figure. But it does not give chase, merely stares in surprise.

The fox pauses in similar surprise. A dog speaking in human? He glances back, and notices that the dog is dressed like a human too, with a hita-ate about its figure and blue covering its back. There is something on that cloth, matching the rather delicate and slim limbs of the pug.

And then Kitsune springs away and disappears, running for its life towards his mistress.

----

"Hinata." Hiashi eyes Hinata with something stern and yet fatherly in his gaze that Hinata had never picked up on. Until now. He is settled behind a desk, white orbs serious. His every movement is of presence, while Hinata's instincts kick in and she tries to shrink into herself.

She says quietly, "Otou-sama?"

He continues to stare, and the stretch of silence is long enough for her to feel uncomfortable. It is up to her to speak once more, but she will not be forced into something like that until she is ready. Her mind whirls as she searches for something which can lighten the mood and yet keep it in touch with the formality that is part of every wall and every floorboard, smooth between sandaled feet, and silent _-(as the grave)-_. She tries to procrastinate and melt in with that silence, but it rejects her emotions until she must refrain from shifting uncomfortably.

"Father, this is the first place I entered." She finally says, not sure why she is mentioning such a fact. Then it hits her, and she continues with the thread, "Is there something amiss? The Main House is silent."

"It is dignified." Hiashi replies, a displeased look flitting across his face; and then it is back the blank neutral that is the foundation of his chiselled _-(marble)- _face. He is something to be awed, and not a father, even now to Hinata. Tiny lines of weariness extend from his eyes and his mouth, but apart from that little has changed about her father at all. His hair is raven but for a few, almost invisible, strands of grey. But underneath is change that stirs at her soul, making her wonder what she has missed. "Silence is dignified and something to be wanted now. Tell me, eldest daughter, is your mission complete?"

She almost stares at him the way he did her but when his eyes lock onto hers she cannot bring himself to do so. There is something of a _-(deadly)- _warning -_(threat)-_ in his gaze that has always been present. "It is as successful as possible away from the gates."

"Then you must hurry, Hinata." Says her father, standing up from his desk. Her eyes trails across the dark grains, smooth and hard and resilient. Like Hanabi, or Neji, but largely like Hiashi, who has the same _experience _about him that is stained deep with every blob of ink and every knob or fingerprint is a memory of the past that her father has experienced in _-(the bloodless wars of)-_ his childhood that threaten to sweep her away whenever she even _touches_ one of those memoirs.

Her gaze is silent and questioning.

Her father sighs as he gazes through the stained glass windows, un-coloured pictures etched in lead black that feels as if burned in her brain after spending hours on end in this very room. There is no need for her father to look so intently at the glass, but perhaps he is trying to see something in a normal perspective; only his—her—clan has the Byakugan, and only he treats his children like clones of adults_ -(tools)-_. "The elders have gathered, and in the last meeting a decision was finalised."

There is a long pause before Hinata whispers, an old, aching fear appearing within her eyes, "What is it?"

"There will be a battle between your sister and yourself," says her father, "When you turn nineteen years of age."

It could have been worse, Hinata speculates. She draws in a deep breath, calming her beating heart. Inside her is still something too much like anxiety for comfort, anxiety for the upcoming match, for her friends, for the family which will arise from the ashes of another era where two sisters feud for their very lives. For by now it is murder if one of them receives the brand, and none more than that. She knows, if Hanabi gets branded, the younger girl would bounce up immediately.

But the pain after the branding is infinitely more than any physical pain caused.

She looks up again to watch her father gazing at her sternly with knowledge in his eyes. "I will—" she begins, but he cuts her off impatiently.

"You will not waste the time you have spent away, Hinata. You _will_ fight when you are nineteen." He pauses. "Unless something happens."

She stares at him with startled eyes, and he seems to shift somewhat until there is an unnamed emotion in his eyes. "How you feel when your sibling is thrown in the branch house . . . you _will_ battle her. I refuse to allow you to abandon yourself for this." And he knows her maternal instinct all too well. He can see -_(pierce through)-_ her soul without a flicker of regret and view her emotions.

But, in her heart, despite whatever she feels, she knows he is right. She saw her sister practising the seals required to activate the Juin Seal many years ago, and she can see even now in Hanabi's eyes that the flicker in her heart the younger girl feels for Neji is not enough. She is the only one who will do so. And she _will_ because she _must_.

"Of course, father." She says softly. "I will not . . . I will _win_." She pauses. "But I have a question for you."

His warning look is enough to deter her. For now.

----

The first place she visits the morning after she arrives home is at the memorial stone with a bunch of zinnias in her hand. The stalks are smooth beneath her sensitive fingers and they sway within the wind, multi colours blending together into a bouquet of beautiful butterflies. Zinnias are her favourite flowers, and she knows -_(had known, because the spirits wandering through the veil between worlds are no longer our own)-_ all too many people who have died, but it is not for her she is visiting.

Still, she says her prayers to the people she knew before moving on.

"I don't know who she knew," Hinata says softly, careful not to interrupt the perpetual silence that seems natural in this clearing despite being surrounded by a ring of trees and training stumps of wood jutting from the ground, "but you know, and whoever you are you know that she still thinks of you. And whoever she was referring to, she still misses you."

There is nothing but a breeze at the stone, ruffling through her hair. It isn't quite long enough to interrupt her but her fringe sweeps across her eyebrows and the longer blue strands of her hair swish like leaves against her shoulders. It leaves a dusty, dry taste in her mouth; she knows she must kill, and she _has_ killed before _-(without bloody stains on her hand but in her mind)-_, but still it is something she tries to avoid at all costs.

"The flowers are from her, and I suppose I'm lucky that she hasn't requested anything more than the place at the memorial. But the zinnias . . . a zinnia means 'thinking of a friend', and whether you were a friend, or something more, the meaning is clear. It is a very friendship-orientated flower, these with petals. And however she knew you, she has not forgotten."

The uncut grass sweeps like tiny needles against her bare ankles, cool and stiff now that summer has waned into the fluttery and windy autumn, as she steps closer, her fingers brushing against rows and rows of kanji. The words are neat and tiny, and too many, even though there is still space left for more names to be added. She leans closer, the stone worn smooth by rain and wind and sunshine days. Pale fingers run past the names: _Uchiha Obito . . . Tai Hikari . . . Yondaime . . . Rin . . ._ the list goes on and on.

"She might," Hinata says, "meet you, but don't expect her too soon. I won't let her. But all I know her as is Mizu, and I am sure, if you knew her while still alive, that her real name is not so. I can only say that she chose it for the healing properties of water. She's a healer, and if you know one, it might be her. She lives in the edges of a village in Hi no Kuni.

"And . . . she also says that your sacrifice was foolish, and that you shouldn't have done it just for someone like her. Or how you shouldn't have done it to people who do not appreciate your sacrifice and what you have left behind."

She stops to allow a period of respective silence to greet spirits -_(that still walk the earth and in both her heart and another's with cheerful faces so different from the grey tint of death)-_.

There is nothing else to say, but the wind picks up as she stares at the memorial one last time before leaving.

----

When the sun has climaxed in the sky Hinata pauses from her wanderings around the village. She did not see her friends, but suspects the reason more to do with the missions any of them might have undertaken than a choice upon their own. She does not delude herself into thinking that any of them might have waited before advancing until Jounin level. She knows all of her closer friends are capable of doing so all too easily.

Ichiraku is not her first choice but the ramen stand is the closest rest stop in her amble. Tentatively she takes a seat, eyes automatically scanning everyone in the small crowd which has gathered. In the four years she has been absent Ichiraku has changed enough to pass for a _-(moderately)-_ classy restaurant, and although the rooms are hidden from view by thick walls they are not quite built well enough to block even _her_ view. She settles soundly on one of the stools before the bar, which Old Man Ichiraku has not quite passed over yet, since it draws in quick customers.

"What can I get you, Hyuuga-san?" A woman asks cheerfully, a bright smile on her face. Hinata recognises Ayame, the Ramen Girl, now a woman with shiny brown hair and vibrant personality that more than makes up for the small flaws in her face that prevent her from being _-(unnaturally)-_ beautiful. There is, she notes, a ring on the woman's finger that seems to be held in special value although it does not mark any binding vows. A simple, uniform white is sufficient for everyday wear.

Hinata has not seen Ayame for a long time, the last being when the woman noticed her gazing sadly at Naruto's retreating back. "Just a regular miso ramen please, Ayame-san."

The woman seems to examine her closely, eyes thoughtful. "Are you . . . Hinata-san?"

"Hai." Hinata says, nodding and returning with a _-(barely visible)- _smile. The woman is the first villager which has noted her since her return, though this might be because she is the first to see her face uncovered by shadows, and one of the villagers she knew—Hinata cannot say she still knows Ayame, but she can say she has made the woman's acquaintance. "It's nice to see you too, Ayame-san. Ramen isn't my favourite food but I've missed yours."

Ayame chuckles. "I don't make it, my father does; but you're right. You're the only one to have tasted the first batch I made, and can I say that I appreciate the comments." She winks. "It really boosts my confidence, but I don't know how to help you with your dilemma."

To her credit, Hinata realises her face is only faint pink rather than red. But before she can reply she detects something awfully familiar moving behind her, about ten metres away. Even so it is only the strange style of his chakra circulation which reveals the identity of the rapidly approaching person, hand stretched out as if to tap her on the shoulder. She realises, suddenly, that the white top she is wearing sports the Hyuuga Clan's symbol.

She steps back quickly from the counter, moving away from the strip of light that illuminated her face before—and the person almost trips over her.

"Hey, Hyuuga!" says Naruto, face angry and yet still cheekily _-(mischievously)- _happy for some unknown reason. He looms over her, and if they stand back to back Hinata knows she would only reach the tip of his ear, or range somewhere in the crook of his neck.

He is up to something. Trying hastily to calm the _-(shameful)-_ scarlet rising into her cheeks, she turns around and replies quietly, "Yes, Naruto-kun?"

Again there is a distance between the two; they have never been close, no matter what Hinata wants, but after six years of being separated there is much more to be wanted for what they have to qualify even as friendship. Now they are acquaintances, two shinobi who attended the academy together as children, who happened to graduate at the same time, nothing more.

Naruto and his mop of bright blonde hair seems to sway, as if contemplating if he should lean in closer to view her face under a better light. Hinata knows all too well how her clan presses and pressures _-(with a rigid, cold might that is too much like a killer; it is, since it killed her cousin's innocence, and her sister's love)-_ until one submits. Emotion battles across his face until his pupils visibly dilate to give him a better look at her head.

Almost instantly, a smile breaks out. "Hinata-san!"

She does not know why she feels disappointed. It is only logical that time has torn what relationship they did have, that she no longer merits 'Hinata-chan' in his mind any longer, but there is still something that feels sort of empty dismay when he does not even imply that they have some sort of friendship. He says her name as he would any other that he might meet out in the streets, and that, more than anything which took place while she wandered the village, is what saddens her the most.

"Why did you tap me on the shoulder, Naruto-kun?" she asks curiously, not allowing a blush to cover more of her face. She knows he thought her nice, but that was many years before, and she does not wish to push her luck lest it makes her seem strange. "I'm sure my family doesn't greet you very often."

There is a sad look in Naruto's eyes, for just a moment, but Hinata does not miss it even when the mask comes back into his place and he becomes a hyperactive, blonde, bundle of joy. "Of course, not. They're not as nice as you Hinata-chan, and not a lot of them eat at Ichiraku Ramen. Actually, I was going to ask if one of them could explain what exactly they did to me." Suddenly, he visibly brightens. "But you can do that!"

She pauses for a moment. "Um . . . I don't want to pry but . . . uh . . . what technique did my clan use?"

"That bastard—" Naruto glances at her with a little guilt and anxiety in his eyes as he abruptly cuts off. "He was nothing to _me_, of course, but it was something like—sixty four?"

Hinata does not need to think very hard to recall what it must have been; the time has not dulled her memory that far, although there are still wisps of memory concealed _-(_ _behind crimson, blood-spattered walls that hold a secret they will not divulge)- _in her mind. "Was it . . . Hakke Rokujyuu Yonshou, Naruto-kun?" she asks quietly.

"Yeah! Whatever that is." he exclaims immediately. "Can you check it out on me?"

The Hyuuga heiress nods quickly and turns away, acting her eyes with a single seal. Even now she cannot open the connections with a burst of chakra, but one is better than many, and Hinata is proud enough. But she knows it is still not enough. "Of course. Byakugan!"

She scans in immediately, adding more and more power to zoom in. It almost surprises her that she can actually see the dots of tenketsu rather clearly, instead of mere lights where she suspects them to be.

"Do you see anything?" Naruto asks instantly, eagerly.

There is something not quite right. "Why—" she pauses, asking herself is she really wishes to know. She has heard rumours in her travels, terrible rumours of a bloodthirsty monster that is kept inside a container. It was true of Gaara of the Sand—and Naruto is the first to defeat him in combat. She stutters in an effort to hold back her question. "U-um . . . actually, you'll be fine really soon. But are you using a jutsu now?"

Naruto looks puzzled. "You can see that I'm using chakra right now?"

"I can _see_," Hinata replies carefully, "but not as well as my cousin. I can't really see past seals at the moment."

She does not miss his sigh of relief, or the hastiness in which he leaves.

----

To be continued . . .

----

A/N: Please review & give me your thoughts


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